


A Devastating Loss

by JantoJones



Series: Brief Briefings [61]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-09-01 03:38:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8605825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JantoJones/pseuds/JantoJones





	

After enjoying a two hour session in the gym, Napoleon spent a further forty-five minutes getting himself ready for his date. Ordinarily, he would prepare at home, but there wouldn't be time. Besides, since he was having dinner at Maria's apartment, he could drive her home when her shift in Communications ended. He had just finished applying his aftershave and was retrieving the things would need for the evening from his locker, when Illya entered the changing room.

"Bozhe Moy!" the Russian exclaimed, coughing a little over-dramatically. "Has THRUSH mounted a gas attack?"

Solo stared quizzically at his partner before realising what he meant.

"Very funny," he replied tersely. "I'll have you know that this aftershave is very expensive."

"Then you were robbed, my friend."

Before Napoleon could reply, the wall to the left of him exploded; burying the CEA under a mound of rubble.

The force of the blast, while substantial enough to bring down a wall, wasn't strong enough to cause too much damage to the rest of the room. Illya had been knocked from his feet, and was picking himself up when Dale Abbotson ran in. U.N.C.L.E.'s resident plumbing engineer skidded to halt when he saw the demolished wall.

"I . . I . . I was coming to evacuate the area," he said, with shock evident in his voice. "There was pressure building up in one of the heating ducts."

"Never mind the cause for now," Illya snapped, as he dropped to his knees in front of the rubble. "Mr Solo is under here."

The two men worked quickly, only stopping once when a crimson liquid began running from the bottom of the pile. Illya's heart almost stopped, until his nostrils picked up the unmistakable scent of red wine. He let go of the breath he was holding and continued clearing.

Within minutes, Napoleon was free. He was a little groggy, but conscious, and was soon back on his feet. Illya draped his friend's arm over shoulders and began to lead him towards medical. They hadn't gotten far when Napoleon forced them to stop. He looked down at the dark stain on the front of his grey suit.

"This suit is new," he said, almost plaintively. "This was its first outing."

"It could have been worse, Napoleon," Illya told him. "It could have been your life."

From the look Napoleon gave him, Illya could almost be convinced that losing a suit was just as devastating as losing his life.


End file.
